THE CAT 



her turn to be helped, behaving with a gentleness 

 and decency which might be imitated by many chil- 

 dren. She is very punctual, coming as soon as she 

 hears the bell ; and, when I enter the dining-room, 

 I find her already in her place, her paws folded on 

 the tablecloth, her smooth forehead held up to be 

 kissed, like a well-bred little girl who is politely 

 affectionate to relatives and old people. 



Eponine is passionately fond of fish, and some- 

 times, when by careful investigation in the kitchen 

 she has ascertained that there is fish to come, she 

 refuses, after the fashion of children eager for 

 dessert, to touch her plate of soup. On such occa- 

 sions I say to her coldly : " Mademoiselle, a 

 young lady who is not hungry for soup is not ex- 

 pected to have any appetite for fish," and the dish 

 is carried pitilessly past her eager little nose. 

 Once convinced that I am in earnest, Eponine, like 

 the glutton that she is, laps up her soup hastily, 

 swallows every crumb of bread, and then looks at 

 me with the complacent air of one who has acquit- 

 ted herself of her duty, and whose conscience is 

 free from reproach. Her portion of fish is then 

 served to her, and she eats it with well-merited 

 enjoyment, finishing her repast with a little drink 

 of water. 



When I am giving a dinner, Eponine does not 

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